


Monsters

by braiawrites



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: Allies Jude Duarte and Cardan Greenbriar, Angst, Angst and Feels, Cardan Greenbriar's Tail, Comfort, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar Fluff, Lonely Cardan, POV Cardan Greenbriar, Pining, Romantic Friendship, Soft Cardan Greenbriar, angsty cardan, jude duarte - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28879134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braiawrites/pseuds/braiawrites
Summary: A lonely and restless Cardan Greenbriar wrestles with his monsters as the sun rises. || post-tcp – mid-twk.
Relationships: Balekin Greenbriar & Cardan Greenbriar, Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar
Comments: 12
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

Loneliness was a curious thing. Like a being with its own life, a constant companion that pressed and clawed and devoured him from within. Sometimes he could fight back, push its presence to a far corner of his mind, ignore the hollow ache for a time. But he could always count on it to return to his side when the silence came.

Cardan curled his tail closer to him, flicking it up to rub its soft fur between his fingers as he stared up at the ceiling. 

Since he had moved here, it felt as though the empty presence of loneliness had become his constant companion. He dreaded the ending of each night, dreaded the inevitable, oppressive silence that accompanied the rising sun as the courtiers retired to their rooms and he to wherever his mind decided to take him in their absence. 

Twisting in bed to face the large, root-bordered door of his father’s chambers—because they weren’t his, not really—Cardan imagined the doors opening, imagined… someone, anyone, walking through. It didn’t matter who, he told himself—although he certainly had a preference. 

He shook his head, curling his lip at the implications of his own fantasies. Ridiculous. He felt the slightest bit lonely and suddenly he was dreaming about _her_. As though she'd fix it. As though she cared. 

He refused to think her name, though her face already filled his mind. Beautiful in its human flaws. Perfect in its imperfections. 

He wished things had been different. He wished he had been born someone else. Wished she’d never come to Faerie. Wished she _would_ come to him now. 

Cardan rolled over abruptly, his legs tangling in the sheets as he hastened to put his back to the door.

It was revolting— _he_ was revolting, pining after a human girl like this. He hated her. Despised her very existence. The way she was constantly in his mind, plaguing his thoughts—how her brows drew together ever so slightly when she schemed; the way she rubbed the shortened joint of her missing finger when she got nervous; the flash in her eyes when he said something particularly irksome. What would she think if she saw him now? Tired and restless and utterly alone?

He didn’t want to be left by himself anymore. Didn't want to keep fighting the shadows on his own, night after lonely night.

The silence was too deep alone, its burden too heavy to bear. He was slowly becoming crushed under its weight, like a mountain had crumbled on top of him. Like its pressure was forcing the air from his lungs. 

The tip of his tail twitched as a sour taste rose in the back of his throat. How small a figure he was, really. The High King of Elfhame, with power over the land itself, who could cause the earth to tremble and call islands from the sea—and yet he couldn’t face a little bit of silence.

Couldn’t stop his heart from aching at the thought of a human girl.

He tried to close his eyes, but loneliness called. It didn’t want him to sleep—and who was he to deny the monster?

So he lay, staring sightlessly at the foliage-covered walls of this foreign room, as the pit that should have been his heart swallowed him up from the inside out. 

He deserved it. _He deserved it, he deserved it, he deserved it._

He was a terrible creation, truly. The product of a mother who didn’t want him and a father who only ever looked at him with disdain. Of a brother who could not have cared less what happened to him, so long as he didn’t get in the way, and sisters who turned a blind eye to his torment.

The memories were floating around the edges of his conscious mind, knocking against the barriers he’d erected to keep them out. 

They seeped in.

Endless nights curled up in bed, a victim of the dark. Days spent thinking, planning a way to make his parents happy. Changing himself from the inside out, trying to prove that he was better than his father believed. Selling his soul just to see his mother smile. 

More memories followed. No matter how hard he tried to keep them out his mind resisted, dragging up every moment, every reason that had led him on to this battlefield, playing them on loop.

Human girls who stuck together, who held hands as they walked home through the Milkweeds. Who went home to a house in which they were safe, to people who didn’t beat them or threaten to cut their tails off if they didn't learn their place. Perhaps it wasn’t love, but it was better than pure disdain.

No one had ever paid attention to Eldred’s youngest son unless it was to gift him a prettily packaged insult or scourge him into submission. 

They certainly hadn’t believed him to be capable of anything great. So instead, he’d become horrible. He’d drowned the fear in his golden chalices and distracted himself with what fun he could have with the courtiers who flocked to him. 

The truth of their flocking was not lost on him; he wasn’t a fool, though he certainly played the part. They didn’t like him any more than his blood relatives did, so when they suddenly started seeking him out, he’d known what they’d truly been after. Known it wasn’t his company. 

Everything in Faerie spun around a central power and the closer to that power you could get, the higher you could climb. 

He was nothing but a stepping stone to them. 

Cardan wanted to sneer at the thought, wanted to be disgusted and angered with them all—but instead all he felt was pain. Like a knife buried in his heart, an aching, burning pain accompanied by the one truth that he knew but had never admitted: _he was nothing_. And the only thing that made him anything to anyone was the crown that Jude had put atop his head. 

Despicable, vile, _human_ Jude. Liar. A liar. She was a liar, and with one act, she’d caught all of Faerie up in her lies, too. 

Each time someone called him _Majesty_ , each time someone bowed low before his throne or swore their loyalty to him, he felt it. He felt the lie that radiated—from them, and also from him, because he was just as much a liar as all the rest of them. Perhaps more. He was the deceitful, powerless prince masquerading as the king of a truthless, power-hungry people. They’d find out soon enough that he didn’t have what they wanted, and then they’d tear the too-big crown from his head and drag him from the throne where he sat to play pretend.

Cardan ground his teeth, donning a robe and slippers as he marched to his door. Throwing it open, he came face to face with a pair of startled guards, their spears pointed at his chest. 

“My king!” one exclaimed, hastily lowering his weapon. “I’m sorry, forgive us, we—”

Cardan’s only response was to shove through them. The guards’ footsteps clattered behind him as they scrambled to keep pace, their voices muffled in his ears, as though he were hearing them through a layer of deep water. 

“Leave me,” he ordered over his shoulder, not breaking stride. 

"But—" one of the guards objected, and Cardan came to a sudden halt, rounding on her. 

"I said, _leave me_ ," he snapped. “Return to your post, I don’t want you here.”

“Your majesty—”

“ _Don’t_ call me that!” He sounded desperate, his voice just a little too shrill, too sharp around the edges. He was shaking, his hands fisted and his jaw clenched, his dark hair messy.

“My—my liege,” the taller one stammered, hesitating on the words, “our orders are to protect you at all costs. Your seneschal—”

“Well, now you have new orders.” When neither guard moved to leave, Cardan practically snarled, “Go!” and flung his arm back in the direction of the royal chambers. They scurried away, casting nervous glances over their shoulders.

He waited for them to disappear around the corner before continuing, using the servants’ halls to avoid any courtiers who may be up at this time. He stopped when he reached the room he wanted.

The dark wood door was smooth and he studied the swirling, polished grains as he wondered _what in hell he was doing_. He stared at his trembling hand, hovering inches above it. What was inside would help him, he tried to reason. Distract him, at the very least. Either way, he’d feel better than he did now. Empty. Alone. 

Even if the comforts she might whisper would be false.

Cardan stood there for a long time, hand poised to knock, heart aching. 

He hated her lies. He couldn’t get enough of them. 

He imagined how one word from her would banish the loneliness that hovered with him constantly. How she could slay the monsters his mind conjured, just by being near him. Even if she didn’t know she did it. 

He just had to knock.

_Knock, damn you!_ He drew his hand back, curled his fingers, fighting whatever it was inside him that didn't want him to see her. Whatever it was that _did_ want to see her. 

But he couldn’t do it. 

He rested his slackened fist against the door, touching his forehead to it as well.

_Weak, weak, weak. Helpless little boy, puppet prince playing king. Pretending to have power._

His eyelids drooped and he let them, let the darkness obscure his vision, let the shadows smother him. 

He didn't know how long he stood there, hand on her door as though he could feel her presence through it. Didn't really know why he stayed so long, waiting for a salvation that wasn't for him, who didn't want him, eyes shut tight against the real world.

This was useless. He straightened, pushed the hair back from his face, took a deep breath.

Cardan turned away to face the monsters. 

Alone.


	2. Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cardan runs into Jude as he turns his back on her door and they talk. || A softer ending, requested by @jurdanhell on tumblr.

He’d made it only a couple of steps before she rounded the corner. The soft glow of the dawn sky seeped through a high window, painting her in gold as she walked beneath it. 

She came to a stop two paces from him and Cardan felt his stomach flip. 

“Where are your guards?” Jude asked. If she was at all surprised to see him, she didn’t show it.

“And well met to you, too,” Cardan said, dipping his head as he evaded her question.

Jude seemed less than amused. “Why are you here? You should be asleep.”

“Am I not allowed to walk the halls of my own palace?” he shot back. “Surely you wouldn’t be so cruel as to deny me even that.”

“Either answer my questions or go away.” She pushed past him to her room, unlocking her door and shoving her way inside. 

_ Yes, Cardan _ , he thought, _ go away _ . But his traitorous feet followed her, catching her door before it swung shut and then having the gall to hesitate, frozen in her doorway. 

_ In or out, coward. Stop standing here like an uncertain child _ . 

Still, his feet wouldn’t move. 

Across the room, Jude was crouched by her hearth, coaxing a small flame into existence. 

“Well?” she intoned, back still turned to him. She fed a small log into the little fire. “You’re allowed to come in.”

And finally Cardan stepped inside. 

His skin prickled with uncertainty as he closed the door behind him and moved to stand by the warmth of the hearth. His seneschal was sitting on the floor, so he lowered himself to sit across from her, hugging his knees to his chest. 

Jude seemed to see him for the first time, her hazel eyes scanning the lines of his face, reading the emptiness written in his hollow gaze. The slight furrowing of her brows belayed her concern.

“Cardan, are you all right?”

Her voice was not gentle, because that was not her way, but it was not unkind, either. 

Cardan said nothing, because, really, what was there to say?  _ I couldn’t sleep because my bed is too large and my room is too empty and even when I have someone with me and my guards are right outside my door I’m still more alone than I’ve ever been _ ? 

“Perhaps I should not have come,” he said instead, and Jude rolled her eyes.

“A rather lengthy way to say  _ no _ , but I get the picture.” She picked at a loose thread on the hem of her tunic, frowning as it resisted her attempts at pulling it loose. “So, what’s up?” 

_ Nothing _ , Cardan tried to say, but his throat tightened around the lie, so instead he settled for, “Nothing important.”

Jude had the thread between her teeth now, her tunic lifted just enough to reveal the smooth plane of her stomach and abs that Cardan was trying very hard  _ not _ to stare at. She glanced up at him through long, auburn lashes. 

“I know you can’t lie, but you’re walking a thin line,” she said, eyebrows lifting slightly. “If you came here of all places, and in the middle of the night no less, there’s got to be a good reason.”

“‘Here of all places?’” he echoed. “And where else do you suppose I might go?”

She shrugged and gave up on the thread, dropping her hem. Cardan would have told himself he was not disappointed, but even in thought he could not lie.

“Nicasia’s got a room here.”

He stiffened. “What makes you think I’d want to see her?”

“I thought you still had a thing for her, even if you won’t admit it.”

Cardan didn’t miss the slight wobble in her voice as she said the words. He sighed. “No, Jude, I do not ‘have a thing for her,’ thank you very much. Nicasia is… a friend.”

“Okay, okay.” She raised both hands in surrender, leaning back. “But still. I don’t know why you wouldn’t rather see a friend over me.”

Cardan’s heart gave a sharp pang and he flinched. “Are…” He swallowed. “Are we not friends?”

She snorted. “If we’re friends then you have a much different understanding of the word than me.” 

“Apparently so,” he said flatly, shifting to stand. He tried not to show the hurt on his face. It had become clear that, even here, he was not wanted. It was stupid of him to have thought he would find any compassion in Jude. Any care for him.

“I should go.” He turned, but she caught his hand.

“No—Cardan, that’s—” 

He paused and twisted to face her, regarding her through the bars of the cage around his heart. She sighed and released him, sinking back down onto her knees.

“Don’t go.” Jude closed her eyes, dragging her hands down her face. “Please.”

As he shifted back into a seated position, he noticed her rubbing her thumb across the tip of her shortened ring finger. 

“We’re not—I didn’t mean we’re not friends. It’s just—well, we aren’t  _ not _ friends, but it’s strange to think of us as that.”

“So what are we then? If we’re not friends but we’re not ‘ _ not _ friends’. What does that make us?” Cardan’s voice was hard but his eyes were pleading, hurting.

“I don’t know,” Jude admitted. “We could be allies.”

Cardan stayed quiet, and that silence stretched. Finally, Jude met his eyes, gnawing on her lip. 

“Did—Do you want to be? Friends, I mean?” 

She swallowed so loudly that Cardan could hear it. He took in the rosy glow of her cheeks in the firelight, the loose strands of hair framing her face. 

Did he want to be friends with Jude Duarte? He almost laughed. He wanted that and so much more. For now, though, he supposed he could settle for friends. 

The self-loathing crept forward at the thought, but he tried to shove it down as he nodded. 

“Friends,” he affirmed. She stretched out her hand and he took it uncertainly, the darkness recoiling at the contact. 

Jude smiled softly. “Friends, then,” she agreed, squeezing his hand.

A gentle flame flickered to life in Cardan’s heart, a candle catching in the warmth of her fire, a light to hold the shadows at bay. 

Perhaps he was not so alone, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, babe! Cardan is so soft, he literally melts my heart. Like, I love writing soft Cardan. Anyway, not really fluffy but cute nonetheless. I think it fits in this stage of their relationship haha!

**Author's Note:**

> Cardan needs so much therapy, my poor boy :,( But anyway, hello to you, lovely reader! Thank you so much for dropping by and I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to drop a comment with your feedback, I’d love to hear from you! You can also send me an ask on Tumblr (https://braiawrites.tumblr.com/ask) or let me know and I can tag you when I post new content!


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